The Right of All
by Katsuko1978
Summary: The definition may have changed along the way, but his personal freedom was something that nobody could take away forever. G1 AU for the fic trader's "Gen in January" challenge. New chapter added 1 June 2012.
1. The Right of All

**Disclaimer:** Transformers©Hasbro/Takara  
**Warnings:** AU for G1, and also plays a bit with the bunny located at community(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)tf_bunny_farm(slash)358315(dot)html  
**Notes:** Written for the Gen In January challenge on Dreamwidth's the_fic_trader community. The prompt was "Starscream, freedom."

* * *

**The Right of All**

There was once a time, long ago, when personal freedom meant that he could fly as far as he wished. He'd seen different worlds, so very many, some even further from home than the mudball they were currently stuck on. In those days, it was just him and his research partner, studying their finds and just _being_.

Then the Accident happened, Skyfire offlined on a frozen rock, and Starscream's wings were metaphorically clipped. He thought for sure that there would be no escaping from the cage of his frameset – from the stigma of being warrior-cast – ever again.

He went to the war academy because, according to everyone (except Skyfire, but the opinions of the deactivated didn't count), that's all seekers were good for – flying war machines that had no business in a science lab or any other _real_ profession. And like all other seekers, he excelled; it was in his programming, no matter how hard he tried to forget. So Starscream tuned out, allowed instinct to guide him, and prepared to spend the remainder of his (hopefully) short life as a military drone.

Then another accident occurred, this time during a training session. Another cadet had stumbled too close to the targets on the firing range and took a serious hit to the torso. And somehow, Starscream pulled free of his apathy enough to recall how to tend to the damage. He ignored the grumblings of the rest of his training unit, focused instead on field-patching the hole until one of the academy medbots could assist the mech. Once the emergency was over, he was positive that everyone would forget his actions and life would return to mediocre.

A few cycles later, Starscream was transferred from central combat training to military medic training. It would be nearly a quarter-vorn before he realized that the move was slowly giving him back his sense of self, the same sense that had been lost along with his scientific accomplishments.

Now, vorns later and light years away from home and everything remotely familiar, he had the respect of not only his commanding officer but of the entire Decepticon army. He had a team of engineers that looked up to him and were eager to assist him in whatever way was necessary; he had recently begun to train Hook and Scrapper so that they would be able to perform minor surgeries on their own while he dealt with more serious injuries. He had a trine that watched his back, both mechs well-aware that their wingmate was vulnerable whenever he stopped to assess injured colleagues on the battlefield.

And that, so far as Starscream was concerned, was _his_ definition of freedom, and not even the self-righteous Autobots could take that away from him.

* * *

**End Notes: **I think I'll come back and play in this 'verse some more later. I'd like to compound on how things are different for Starscream amongst the Decepticons while the Autobots are fooled into thinking everything is as it was in G1 continuity...


	2. In the Beginning

**Warnings:** AU for G1, incorporates some small bits of IDW canon.

* * *

**In the Beginning**

The first time they'd met was after one of his first forays in the gladiatorial ring.

He'd won his match, that much was true, but he'd taken some heavy damage and Clench didn't seem to be too bothered with getting him repaired. So he had been settling in to attempt his own repairs when Blitz wandered by, fresh from his own match and sporting injuries. The mech glanced at him, paused, then stopped completely.

"The slag're you doing?" the mech asked gruffly.

Megatron gave the other a look that said he thought Blitz was a moron for even asking. "What does it _look_ like I'm doing?"

The shorter mech shook his head and reached out, grabbing the former miner's arm and hauling him to his pedes. "Don't try to fix your own damage," he said, "ever. It just torques Wings off and then we have to listen to him glitch forever. C'mon."

"Wings?" Megatron found himself asking even as he followed the older gladiator further underground, wondering why Clench had never mentioned these tunnels.

"Yeah, s'what we call him most of the time," Blitz replied. "The owners don't know about him, so we don't talk about him around 'em. He slipped down here one night after someone got royally fragged up in a bout, fixed him up, and now pretty much refuses to leave for longer than it takes for a quick flight or to pick up supplies."

By this point they'd reached their destination, a room that opened up at the end of the tunnel before branching out into corridors once again. A couple of mechs that Megatron knew for a fact had been injured in earlier rounds were settled around the room, all fully repaired except for a greyed-out arm on one that was slowly taking on color, but what caught his attention was the mech who must be the one Blitz was talking about.

"I didn't know seekers spent time underground," he commented quietly to his companion.

"Most don't," an unfamiliar, mildly raspy voice replied, making it clear that Megatron hadn't spoken quietly enough. "They prefer being under the stars and nothing else. I, on the other hand, used to travel off-world in a friend's cargo hold, so enclosed space doesn't bother me. What got ripped off today, Blitzwing?" he added as he turned to assess them both with a critical optic.

Megatron tuned out Blitz's reply (_Blitzwing?_ He had thought that _Blitz_ was the mech's full designation...) in order to study the seeker. The mech was a bit smaller than he would have expected seekers to be, but he'd only ever seen them at a distance so this Wings mech could very well be the norm for that class of warrior-cast. He kept his wings held at an angle that spoke of confidence, the rest of his frame reflecting the rigid control that came with war academy training. His coloration was oddly striking, silver-white with red torso plating and blue forearms, hands, and pedes and corresponding stripes in the same shades on those impressive wings.

Yet what struck the young gladiator most was the mech's optics. It wasn't the color that drew one's attention, not at all; it was the hint of compassion that lingered in Wings' crimson gaze, even when he looked at Blitz like he felt the gladiator was completely glitched.

It took some time to get to know the mech, but given how often he walked out of the ring injured but online Megatron had the time to spare. He learned that the seeker's given designation was Starscream, that he'd been a scientist before being ejected from the science council for events beyond his control (he never went into detail on it, and Megatron knew better than to torque off the medic), that he'd been trained at the war academy as a military medic yet was at loose ends until he opted to stick around the gladiatorial ring.

"If one of those civilian-casts was to be terminally damaged on the street and his choice was to wait for a civilian medic to come along or allow me to do the necessary repairs," Starscream had told him once while rewiring his right arm, "the idiot would prefer to deactivate while waiting for someone other than me to assist him. It doesn't say good things about the future of Cybertron."

Megatron had filed that away for later thought. It didn't take long for him to come to the conclusion that _every_ aspect of life on Cybertron during this so-called Golden Age catered to the civilian-cast and forced all others – warriors, gladiators, miners, shuttles, anyone who had to work in order to keep themselves fueled – to live in the gutter. He decided it was time to do something about it, and covertly began recruiting an army from the gladiators around him. The owners were, of course, kept in the dark, and the arrival of a senator's aide to the fold was a welcome surprise. Megatron had no doubts that he could build a viable command structure just from those currently around him.

Which was why he had to recalibrate his audio receptors and ask Starscream to repeat himself.

"I said _no_," the seeker said again, confirming that Megatron hadn't misheard him as he moved around his makeshift repair bay. "I was trained at the war academy, yes, but I'm not a frontliner by any stretch of the imagination."

"I'm going to need an air commander," Megatron insisted, knowing that he was repeating himself yet not concerned with that fact. "And I need someone I know and trust to be my second if this goes as far as I think it will."

Starscream set down the welder he was holding and turned to face the gladiator. "Yes, you will. But I'm a medic. My place isn't out there," he said, waving one arm towards the corridor that led to the upper levels and the ring itself. "It's back here, making sure that everyone who survives actually does survive to fight another cycle. My function is to treat the wounded and send them back out, to keep them going when there's no battles to be fought. I cannot, I _will not_ be the one to order them into battle in the first place. So no, I cannot be your air commander or second in command.

"But I _will_ be your medic."

Megatron was willing to compromise. The seeker would be his chief medical officer and have the power to override his own orders in issues regarding the well-being of any of his fledgling army, and in return Megatron would keep the one mech who didn't look at him and see either a miner or gladiator or commander close at hand.

Friends were hard enough to come by. He wasn't willing to lose the only one he had.

* * *

**End Notes:** So, yeah. The respect that's shared between the head honcho and his CMO in this 'verse started long before the Decepticons existed.

And nope, I'm not sure right now _who_ the air commander and/or SIC is in this AU at the moment. It'll come to me, I'm sure...


	3. To Protect and Serve

**Warnings:** AU for G1 and (at last) Screamer snark.**  
Notes:** Yet another follow-up/prequel piece to The Right of All. I felt it time to tell Thundercracker and Skywarp's story.

* * *

**To Protect and Serve**

Thundercracker sighed to himself for what had to be the millionth time even as he responded automatically to the comm for all Peacekeepers in Sector Sigma to converge on the square. He was a war academy trained mech, like every other seeker on Cybertron, but with no actual wars to fight there was a serious lack of career options. The best any of them could manage was to be co-opted into a Peacekeeper unit, and even then the civilian-cast didn't know what the slag to do with them.

The best Praxus could apparently come up with was to have warrior-cast fly patrol routes and... actually, that was all. Never mind that Thundercracker had been trained as a Military Enforcer. Never mind that Skywarp, with his warp drive and the expanded processor capacity to handle hundreds of thousands of RAM of coordinate data that had made him a natural for tactical training. Warrior-cast were universally distrusted in any role other than military positions, so they were delegated to the least-glamorous jobs possible without firing them outright.

In all honesty, there had been more than a few times that Thundercracker considered throwing his lot in with the dissidents from out of Kaon. True, their leader was an ex-miner turned gladiator turned general, but the so-called Decepticons were making sure that they weren't ignored. Any group that strived to gain equal treatment for all Cybertronians regardless of cast couldn't be all bad, but the Senate was already painting them as the downfall of civilized life. Thundercracker could ill-afford to be a target of the ruling party, and so he simply continued to follow the status quo.

_"Thundercracker to Prowl,"_ he called over the comm. _"What's the situation?"_

_"Decepticon insurgents,"_ came the response from the Peacekeeper unit commander. _"We have nearly two dozen all around the city-state. I need you and Skywarp to join me at Sigma-693."_

_"Coming in hot, boss,"_ Skywarp cut in over the channel, and Thundercracker smirked slightly at the exasperated exvent from the grounder. The other seeker literally _needed_ something to occupy his processor almost constantly or he got bored. And a bored Skywarp was a danger to himself and others; the mech was almost constantly on report for one prank or another, and the situation could easily be avoided if that fragger Prowl would just give him access to the city-state's defenses. Surely ensuring that the grids were all up to code and rebuilding corrupt firewalls would keep Skywarp out of trouble for at least a few joors...

The blue seeker touched down at the designated coordinates an astrosecond before his wingmate's arrival, ignoring the distrustful glare sent their way by their commander. He didn't care for Prowl, probably never would, so it was a waste of time to dwell on the groundpounder's hate for all mechs warrior-cast. Skywarp's response was a cheerfully blank grin and a wave, followed by a glare of his own as Prowl turned away without acknowledging the action.

"So what's the buzz?" the purple seeker asked, his cheerfully blank tone belying the boredom in his optics. Chances were good that he was planning out teleportation coordinates for his next prank just to keep the remainder of his processor from locking up.

Prowl shot him another glare before speaking: "We have reports that one of the insurgents was shot down in the vicinity. One of the reports claims that a second insurgent is still in the area as well. Fan out and search for them. We need information, so don't deactivate them unless necessary."

The two seekers nodded and headed in opposite directions, although Thundercracker could tell that the orders didn't sit well with his wingmate. Pit, they didn't sit well with him either, but there was nothing for it. The blue mech did a cursory scan as he rounded the corner slowly, pausing as he got a sensor reading from a few kliks ahead of him. He debated for a moment on whether to ping Prowl before deciding to check things out first. Moving slowly, Thundercracker approached quietly enough to catch the vocalizations of two mechs.

"_Ow!_ Slag it, Screamer, that hurt!" the first mech snapped, followed by another yelp and the sound of metal striking metal.

"If you hadn't decided to fling yourself in front of laser fire, you could be halfway across Praxus by now," the second mech replied, sounding annoyed with the other. "Now sit still or I'll hit you again."

Thundercracker shifted just enough to catch sight of the pair, nearly stalling out in surprise at what he saw.

A mere hundred mechanometers from where he stood, a tricolored seeker knelt next to a violet-blue minibot. The minibot was obviously the damaged party, his leg sparking dangerously as the seeker worked at repairing the wound. The seeker obviously knew what he was doing, snapping out another admonition to _sit still or I'll weld you to the ground_ even as he carefully welded damaged wires back together with a small blowtorch. Thundercracker's optics cycled in closer, and after a moment he found what he was looking for; etched into the glass of the seeker's cockpit were the Cybertronian symbols denoting a medic.

_The Decepticons have seekers,_ he thought, optics blinking as he processed the information. _Not only that, they have a seeker __**medic.**__ I wasn't aware of any seeker going through the training..._

He didn't notice Prowl's arrival from the east until he caught the sound of a blaster charging; the seeker medic didn't even flinch, but the injured Decepticon's helm turned to track the threat instantly.

"Decepticon seeker, step away from the minibot and throw aside any weapons," the Peacekeeper ordered, keeping the pair in his sights.

"He's a medic, Prowl," Thundercracker snapped, drawing the other seeker's attention for an astrosecond before he returned to his task.

"No matter," Prowl replied. "Decepticon seeker, I repeat. Step away from the minibot."

"Yeah, _that's_ gonna happen," the medic said, tilting his helm in an action that Thundercracker would one day equate to the human gesture of rolling one's eyes. "In case it missed your notice, _Peacekeeper designate Prowl_, I'm wrist-deep in Rumble's leg. I'm not moving until I'm finished, so your aft can wait a breem."

"Then you leave me no choice. Thundercracker, set your blaster to stun."

The blue seeker shot a look at his commander. "He's a _medic_, Prowl!"

"He's also a Decepticon. Take the shot or I will."

A burst of displaced air was the only warning given. Skywarp must have been watching from another position because he never even flinched as he turned his blaster onto the groundpounder.

"Sorry, Prowl," he said smoothly, "but I'm with TC on this one."

The shot hit Prowl between the doorwings, and the mech collapsed to the ground. Skywarp stepped over the fallen Peacekeeper and moved closer to the two Decepticons; Thundercracker hesitated for an astrosecond before following.

The minibot watched them approach warily, and from the new angle Thundercracker could see that the blaster he was carrying was set at full power. "That's close enough," he snarled, adjusting his grip and raising the weapon.

"If they were going to hurt us, Rumble, they already would have," the medic noted, optics still turned to the last few wires he needed to patch up.

"You might trust 'em, Screamer, but I don't," Rumble replied. "They might be seekers, but they're also Peacekeepers. If you'd look up for more than half an astro you'd see the slagging insignia."

"How many times do I have to tell you that my designation is _Starscream_ and not whatever you want to shorten it to this cycle?" the tricolored seeker asked. He finished up the last weld and subspaced the blowtorch. "There, you're as fixed as I can manage in the field, runt. Go blow stuff up or whatever it is Soundwave sends you to do."

Rumble carefully stood up, still giving Thundercracker and Skywarp distrusting looks. "What about them?"

"I tendered my resignation just now," Skywarp replied. "Being a Peacekeeper's boring anyway."

Starscream gave the two seekers a critical look as he likewise stood up, brushing the dust from his knees. "Academy trained, right?" he asked.

"Military Enforcer," Thundercracker supplied, "Level Alpha. And they had us doing patrols."

"What about you?" This time the gaze swung to Skywarp.

The purple seeker drew an intake. "Tactical, military history, topography, and a functional warp drive." When the Decepticons stared at him, the medic raising an optic ridge, Skywarp added, "I've also got an expanded processor to handle all that stuff at once."

"No wonder you're bored," Starscream mused. He tilted his helm for a moment and his optics dimmed, obvious indicators that he was on a comm call, before turning his attention back to the ex-Peacekeepers. "Rumble, Megatron wants you to head for Sigma-672 and give Frenzy and Swindle back-up. And for you to remind Swindle that he's supposed to be setting explosives, not stealing the city blind."

"You got it, Stars," Rumble replied before taking off, either missing or ignoring Starscream's growl at the new nickname.

"As for you two," the medic continued, turning his gaze back to the other seekers, "it seems that we have a couple of openings within our organization. Would either of you happen to be looking for a position as enforcer or tactical officer?"

"I might be," Skywarp said, a faint grin on his dermaplates. "What's the catch?"

"Apparently I'm in need of a keeper," Starscream replied, tilting his helm in the soon-to-be familiar gesture of annoyance. "If you take the job, part of your duties will be to make sure, quote, _my easily-distracted CMO doesn't get his aft shot in the field because we have nobot else to fix him,_ end quote."

Thundercracker fought back a snort. "That can be arranged," he mused.

It would be many vorns later before the seeker would realize that being a Peacekeeper had granted him one good thing along with the distrust and sometimes outright hatred of the civilian-cast: it had allowed him to meet his third wingbrother long after he'd given up the hope of having a full trine. And there was nothing in the universe that Thundercracker wouldn't do to keep his brothers functional.

Of course, his job would be a lot easier if Skywarp hadn't managed to get himself promoted to air commander, but he still managed it just fine with Starscream's help.

* * *

**End Note:** Yes, Skywarp is the air commander in this universe. It occurred to me that he probably acts as he does in canon because, as a teleporter, he has all this processor space that isn't always in use and he's _bored to death_. In this universe, I'm giving him an excuse to use it all whenever he pleases. Plus I like the idea of Thundercracker as the protective older brother to "gotta save them all" Starscream and "don't bother me can't you see I'm planning the next air strike" Skywarp.


	4. What You Don't Know

**Warnings:** AU for G1.  
**Notes:** Once again, this segment was written for Gen in January. This time, the prompt was _Beachcomber, making a choice not to fight._

See, I told you that an Autobot would have a bit of a crisis of faith at some point. I just didn't realize it'd be Comber!

Also, the title comes from the phrase _what you don't know can hurt you._

* * *

**What You Don't Know  
**

It had been nearly an Earth month since the last time he'd actually gone into battle, and Beachcomber was honestly glad for that, honestly happy that Prowl hadn't asked too many questions when he'd told the SIC that he didn't think he could fight again after... well, after.

He hadn't exactly explained what he meant by _after_, either, and thankfully Prowl had let that slide as well.

If things hadn't happened as they did, if Beachcomber hadn't gotten the idea to flush out the Decepticon's second, then chances were he would never have had his current crisis of faith in the cause.

* * *

The plan had been shockingly simple.

Beachcomber had noticed that ever since they'd arrived on Earth whenever one of the aerial fleet was gunned down, Starscream and his trine followed them down within a matter of seconds. It generally took about two breems for all involved to get back into the sky and return to battle, but Beachcomber wondered if it was possible to gun all of them down and _keep_ them out of the fight.

So that was all he had been thinking when he targeted Blitzwing and took the shot.

The triple-changer hit the ground, transforming into root-mode as he went; sure enough, the command trine followed him out of the sky only seconds later.

Beachcomber remained in his hiding place, carefully targeting the mech that intel had long ago stated as the biggest threat. It would be best to take out Starscream first, he knew that, but chances were good that Skywarp would immediately teleport all four of them out of danger the second the shot was fired. Best to keep locked on Skywarp and take the shot as soon as—

And then his processor locked up for a moment as he realized the situation looked a whole lot like whenever Ratchet or Hoist was doing on-site triage, but only with Starscream playing the role of medic.

"Any idea who shot you," the tricolor seeker asked in a tone that clearly said _you're an idiot, sit still while I patch you up_, "or did you have your optics closed when it happened?"

"You're a riot, Wings," the injured mech retorted, giving a pained smirk at the glare he received for the comment. "Nah, didn't see who did it, but I'd lay credits on that Praxian-build sniper."

Starscream made a sound that was half-growl and half-snort before reaching into his subspace, pulling out what was quite unmistakably a field repair kit. "Then he's probably already got another target in his sites. You need a painkiller, or are you just going to whine and complain the whole time?"

"No time for that, they make me drowsy. You know that, Wings," the triple-changer responded, biting back a pained sound as the seeker began welding shut damaged lines. "Still gotta get back in the fight."

Skywarp frowned, optics dimming slightly before he opened up a comm line. "Wing Command to Second Wing. You read me, Dirge?"

_"Loud and clear, Skywarp,"_ came the reply. _"I saw Blitz go down. Where do you want us?"_

Beachcomber reset his optical band as he realized rather abruptly that the command trine's structure was _not_ laid out the way that their intel stated. From where he was sitting, it looked for all the worlds like Starscream was a medic and that – quite possibly – it was actually Skywarp who was in charge of the whole Pit-damned aerial elite.

"Send Thrust to cover Octane," the teleporter was saying. "You and Ramjet move to cover for the Combaticons. We should be back in the air in less than a breem, so we'll fill in the blanks."

_"Copy, air commander. Dirge out."_

"I'm not picking up anything nearby," Thundercracker suddenly spoke up, sounding a bit suspicious. "That could be due to the fact that the Autobot sniper moved onto another target, or it could be due to a signal damper and this is an ambush."

"Then the slagger's got thirty astroseconds to do something about it," Starscream groused, finishing up the quick patch job on Blitzwing's damaged flap. "You're fixed enough to get airborne again," he added to the triple-changer, "so get your aft in gear before _I_ shoot you."

"Aw, you know we all love you, Wings," Blitzwing said even as he took to the sky again. "I'll go back up Thrust then, bossmech?" he added to Skywarp.

The purple seeker gave a short nod before turning his attention to his wingmate who was stowing the repair kit back into subspace. "You do know it's a damned good thing _you_ didn't get shot, too, right?"

Starscream rolled his head in a gesture of annoyance. "Like I can just ignore it when someone gets shot, Sky. No mech offlines on my watch."

"Don't bother arguing with him," Thundercracker said. "Watching his back is what Megatron brought us on for, remember?"

Skywarp grinned. "Wasn't it something like _make sure my easily-distracted CMO doesn't get his aft shot because there's nobot else who can fix him_, TC?"

"I hate you both so much," Starscream drawled, but the grin on his face proved the words to be a lie.

Beachcomber didn't catch any more of the conversation, as the trine took to the air at that moment with good-natured ribbing. The minibot shifted so as to remain hidden, frowning to himself and noting for the first time exactly what make of aircraft made of the supposed-SIC's alt mode.

* * *

Even with a month of time between his plot to take down one of the Decepticon high command and this very moment, Beachcomber couldn't bring himself to actually reveal his findings to anyone. The news that with one shot he could have crippled the Decepticons at the most critical level – taking out the mech responsible for keeping the enemy online and in fighting condition – could possibly be used in the future to end this war for good.

But, if they did that, wouldn't that make the Autobots _worse_ than the Decepticons? After all, it had been ages since any of the medical team had been targeted in any manner beyond being the enemy; in fact, there'd only been a few times when the Decepticons had targeted the medics, and those had only been when it appeared that their own troops would have fallen into Ratchet or Hoist's care.

It made some sense now, though; even if he wasn't the air commander, Starscream _was_ the Decepticon's chief medical officer. And if Beachcomber had learned anything from watching Ratchet work, it was that the CMO preferred to keep his patients from becoming the enemy's POWs. Apparently some things were universal that way.

Sighing to himself, Beachcomber settled back in his chair and resumed his monitor duty. He couldn't help but hope for a cease-fire or for the war to finally end, if only because he wanted to learn just how in the pit the Decepticons had managed to keep their medic a secret since before they'd ever left Cybertron behind them.

* * *

**End Notes: **I forgot to make mention of something in the notes here earlier, so I'm hoping to amend that problem now XD

For the record, Prowl is the same mech as he was in the previous, pre-Earth installment. _However_, Skywarp managed to get off a good enough shot that it had a detrimental affect on Prowl's memory core. He remembers that Skywarp and Thundercracker were on the Peacekeeper force, and he remembers that they abruptly joined the Decepticons... but beyond that, he doesn't exactly recall the _whys_ or _hows_. He had his battle computer installed shortly after the fact, and although he's been reassured that his memory core may one day repair itself, he's long since given up on trying to remember what happened that day.

Which pretty much means when those memories are triggered, given that he's spent all this time convinced that the racism against military-builds was stupid in hindsight? It's gonna be _fun_.


	5. I Have Heard the Mermaids Singing

**Warnings:** AU for G1, slight Screamer snark, and Soundwave introspection.  
**Notes:**I thought it was about time that Soundwave got to speak up and play in the RoA 'verse. This also, funny enough, slotted in well with one of my remaining NYWYHYLY prompts, so if you see this looks familiar and you follow that story... yeah, that'd be why.

The title comes from a T.S. Eliot quote: _I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each._

* * *

**I Have Heard the Mermaids Singing**

Although Soundwave had been amongst the first to join the armada, he hadn't been there from the very start; that dubious honor belonged to only a few:

Blitzwing. Rumble. Frenzy. Onslaught. Starscream.

Those five, along with Lord Megatron, had been the original core. By the time Soundwave arrived, the search for a command staff had begun. He wasn't the only one of the newly-minted Decepticons to think that the Second, the Third, the Air Commander would come from the original five.

Instead, Starscream had adamantly refused the (at that time) joint positions of Second in Command and Air Commander. He had to actually be _bargained_ into taking on the role of Chief Medical Officer, and was happiest (for a given value of _happy_) when he was tending to the injuries of the troops or simply making sure their antivirus programs were fully updated.

No, the role of Third had been offered to Soundwave himself, along with Chief Intelligence Officer. He had accepted both positions, still a bit thrown that one of the remaining four hadn't been offered a spot on the command team... at least, until Rumble and Frenzy gleefully volunteered to be part of Soundwave's spy team and Onslaught was given command of a mercenary unit deemed the Combaticons. The position of Second in Command and Chief Science Officer went to Shockwave, who had learned that some of his ideals were a match for those Megatron was fighting for and offered his services in any way necessary.

Back then, in the early days, the structure of command had been confusing to the technopath. The mechs who made it up were too divergent, too different to actually work together... and yet somehow, Megatron's charisma and Shockwave's deductive reasoning and Soundwave's technopathy had meshed to create a strong core unit. The additional input that would eventually be added by Starscream's scientific and medical background and Skywarp's tactical know-how and Thundercracker's Elite Forces training would only make the Decepticons that much stronger.

Strong enough to know when a fight was futile, to know where to place a distraction while another smaller team handled the real objective.

Vorns later, on a world far from home, Soundwave knew that they were still able to perform such intricate operations even with Shockwave holding the Decepticon strongholds on Cybertron.

"I hate the beach," Ravage complained, glaring at the sand as if it was mortally offending him. "Sand gets into all of my gears."

"Observation: fact of nature on this world," Soundwave responded, mostly ignoring the complaints even while admitting that _he_ didn't much like the sensation either. "Further observation: distraction tactics working as previously planned."

"Still do not know why _I_ had to be here," the panther groused.

"Because you're a fragging ray of sunshine. Now shut up so I can concentrate on this weld."

Soundwave very nearly snorted at the comment, and was amused that Swindle actually _did_ snort. Starscream responded by whapping the Combaticon on the helm with his welding torch before going back to work on the mech's damaged hip join. To absolutely nobody's surprise, the CMO had joined the distraction force, mostly because it was a given that Megatron would go one-on-one with the Prime, and Starscream would never pass up the opportunity to inform him of his stupidity while fixing the damage as was his prerogative as head of the medical team. It was just another sign of the long-term friendship between the Decepticon commander and his chief medic that Megatron expected the treatment and kept from complaining too much during the repair process.

"Ouch," Swindle complained in spite of the fact that the seeker hadn't smacked him that hard. "And you're here, kitty cat, because otherwise Thundercracker would toss your aft into the brig if anything happens to his wingmate."

Soundwave didn't respond with any outward signs, but he mentally acknowledged that Swindle's words were Primus' honest truth. The only reason that neither Thundercracker nor Skywarp was hovering over Starscream's work was because the technopath and one of his agents were on guard. Otherwise the head of security or air commander (or both) would be covering the medic's back instead of working on keeping the Autobots' attention on the coastal power plant they were "raiding" and away from the small outcrop that Starscream had turned into a makeshift triage.

"Do I need to start welding mouths shut?" the seeker growled, lifting his optics only long enough to shoot a hard look at the Combaticon and Cassetticon before returning attention to his repairs. It would probably only be another half-breem before Swindle would be back in the fight, but Soundwave remained alert and in contact with the rest of his spy team; Rumble and Frenzy were with the crew at the actual target (a wind farm in the central United States) while Laserbeak kept an optic on the operations and Buzzsaw and Ratbat updated their chief on how the distraction was playing out.

It was hardly the first time that Soundwave had taken measures to ensure that the CMO was kept out of the line of fire, and he would never stop doing whatever it took to keep Starscream out of enemy hands.


End file.
